In July 1912, at Drevolre Manor,
The sound of the old shepherd's horn echoes like a song, immediately waking up Belly, a Belgian sheepdog with coffee-coloured fur. Belly is lying on her back for me to massage her, and she then runs towards Rhoten as soon as he blows the horn. I stand up, take off my hat and chuckle as I see Belly jump up onto Rhoten. It has been a long time since I have felt this happy.
Rhoten is the young man responsible for our farm's livestock. He is from Ireland, with a charming and honest accent, which sometimes makes it difficult for me to understand him. But Rhoten is an honest and straightforward man who always tries to make me feel comfortable. He was also the one who made me step out of the house for the first time with a challenge.
Rhoten noticed that every morning and afternoon, I stood on the balcony, looking at a certain corner. Once when we were herding the sheep into the pen, one sheep was being stubborn and would not budge. I gave Rhoten a rather unpleasant look, thinking it was because of my bad mood at the time, and everything seemed irritating to me. I can easily get angry when my tea is too hot, too cold, or not sweet enough. But Rhoten bravely challenged me to help him control this sheep, and in a moment of weakness, I walked towards him and the sheep. And something remarkable happened, the sheep walked into the pen before my and Rhoten's surprise.
I have lived in darkness for too long to realise that the sun still rises outside. Watching the white sheep grazing on the meadow and Belly jumping over them from time to time, the wind blowing and the smell of the grassland, it feels just like the old days. Maybe it is time for me to face myself and let go of these pains. Without Rhoten's challenge, maybe I would have forgotten that I still exist.
Today I have an appointment with Rhoten to shear the sheep. Neither my family nor my husband prohibits me from doing so, even though it is not a ladylike activity. But now who dares to contradict me? Now I will do things that I have never dared to do. I will live beyond the restrictions and prejudices that this society has placed upon me. Life has taken away but also taught me many things, that I will not waste any more opportunities. My past is dead, and now I will try my best in the present. I will go with Rhoten to shear sheep, and I am sure I will do it perfectly. And please do not misunderstand, Rhoten and I will not have anything going on. I have had enough involvement with men, and I will never be attached to anyone else again. Besides, Rhoten does not like me either. He already has someone in his dreams.
Rhoten lets me stand on the side and observe the process. He and another young man - Andy, flip the pitiful sheep over. Andy holds it tight, sometimes even sings a lullaby to calm the sheep down. Rhoten draws a line on its thick wool, puts his finger in to measure the thickness of the wool and chooses the appropriate shears. I watch attentively as Rhoten begins to cut the sheep's wool. He starts from the shortest part below the belly, then gradually moves to thicker and deeper areas. I step closer, then sit down beside him. I do not want to miss any details. Rhoten makes a cut, a patch of wool falls off. I hold the soft pile like cotton, unable to resist squeezing it to feel its elasticity. My eyes shine brightly like streetlights. Rhoten then hands me the shears. At first, I hesitated and didn't know what to do, but then Rhoten looks at me and nods confidently. I take a deep breath and hold the shears up, making the first cut.
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"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have found this so interesting!" I say, taking off my gloves and walking with Rhoten along the dirt road with Belly walking between us. The afternoon sun slants through the broad trees, creating bright streaks on the ground like ribbons. I stop and take a deep breath of the fresh country air of England. It has been a long time since I have felt this freshness and vitality. A breeze blows by, carrying the scent of grass that always makes people remember with endless affection. Suddenly, I remember the days of chasing with Enzo on this road. The memories still linger on both sides of my nose.
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"My lady, all you have to do is open your heart to new things, and you will see that this life is worth every breath," Rhoten nods at me.
"You are...", surprisingly I look at him and express.
"Dreamy, right?" Rhoten laughs.
"Worth noticing," I say. A gust of wind rustles my headscarf. "Thank you, Rhoten."
"For what, my lady?" He looks at me in surprise.
I stop and look around at the scenery. Rolling hills, green meadows dotted with a few white flowers, and a herd of sheep grazing lazily. The pain inside me is slowly healing. I will never forget Elizabeth, but I will no longer suffer. I think Elizabeth would not want to see her mother immersed in grief. Perhaps I am ready to move on.
I look at Rhoten with eyes full of affection, with the light of hope shining brightly. I gently reply, "For helping me know that I still exist."
Both of us look at each other and burst into laughter. We continue walking along the long road home. Autumn has arrived, and the yellow leaves quietly begin to fall. We stop at a moment when we see Diana sitting outside drawing. I do not know when the little girl started painting again, but I am sure that Diana, like me, believes that all pain will eventually fade away and no longer be felt. I have also gradually accepted the fact that Enzo has left me for good and I have told myself that I will be happy again and pleased if he finds his worthy half. Perhaps the love story between the young lady and the housekeeper will forever be just a beautiful fairy tale.
Suddenly, I see myself and Enzo in Rhoten's longing gaze towards Diana. My heart flutters. A feeling of both fear and warmth surrounds me. A sharp gust of wind brushes past my face. I sacrificed my own happiness to do the impossible, and if it were to happen again in this family and I could not prevent it, I would bite my tongue to death. I slowly observe Rhoten's happy face when he sees my sister, as well as his concern about the social distance between the two. I can say that those are the eyes of a lovesick person, the eyes that I was once given. I wave my hand at Rhoten, waking him up from his daydream. He thought I would be angry when I discovered him gazing longingly at the noble young lady. On the contrary, I became his "ally."
"If you like someone, be brave and speak up. Pursue them boldly and never be afraid."
At first, Rhoten looks at me with eyes full of disbelief. After a while, he is convinced by my serious attitude. I continue:
"I know you're worried about your position, but that's not a reason to give up. If you express yourself, you may be accepted or rejected. But if you don't speak up, you'll always believe that you never had her love..."
The shepherd looks at me with empathetic eyes. Rhoten looks back at Diana, still drawing tirelessly. His heavy sigh is full of emotion and it ignites my passion. A love failure, now teaching someone else how to love. But there is a conflict when the very failure realises what mistakes she had made, to understand what she should have pursued.
"Trust me, it’s my own experience..."